We've had so much sad news and bad news concerning too many good mates over the last year that it's getting accumulative. There's only so much you can soak up, knowing you can do buggerall to help any of them except be there when they need to talk, or go to their funeral services and try to be a comfort to their kids and their grandkids. Yes, I know it's how Life has been designed, but it sucks.
When our good mate Duds gave up the struggle a year ago it was achingly sad, but he'd put up one helluva fight for 14 years against all odds and it was hard to wish it any other way under the circumstances. But then when Mitzi quietly decided a few weeks back that she couldn't see any good reason to keep going any more without him - difficult to climb out from under that black day.
The upshot has been a little preoccupation with the whole thing, tends to get the two of us talking about what each of us will do when we find ourselves on our own. Yeah, real downer stuff! Practical, inevitable, but a total downer.
But we're fighting back. We get up every morning with the sparrows as we always have, walk, talk, drink coffee, watch the human race stumble by, stand in the sunshine whenever there is any, read, write, make jokes out of what we can. Be a bit realistic. Make tongue-in-cheek suggestions about stuff. The Ending stuff.
And this is one of mine.
When too many bits have finally worn out or broken off and I need to be shipped away to the local Old Writer's Home and therefore need to get rid of a couple of hundred tonnes of belongings before they'll let me in the door, if I could only take twenty books from my very own personal collection as it now stands, what would they be? Okay, good challenge. This is what I've come up with (no particular order or bias) -
Put out in the 1950s, about an English rev-head that couldn't really afford to go motor racing in tough immediate post-war Britain, but did it anyway, building his own "Special" from a 1930 Austin Seven, the BMC Mini of its day. A book I've read heaps, inspired me at the time to do something similar, also when I couldn't afford it. (Like a trusting fool, I lent the original to a "friend", who never came back. This copy I tracked down in Hay-on-Wye in England. Still has the bloke's greasy fingerprints on the pages.)
"Cloudstreet" (Tim Winton)
THE classic Tim Winton novel. Aus author extraordinaire. Inspired the hell outa me! Do yourself a favour and read it. All of Australia has.
"That Eye The Sky" (Tim Winton)
That other classic Tim Winton novel, much smaller, but geez such a great book to read. And every time just as fresh as the last.
"When I Grow Up" (Timothy Tagg)
The book my Dad gave me for Xmas 1944. The first book I consciously remember reading, as a book. All about what boys can aspire to be when they get past being boys. Which happens about age 35. This one goes into the box with me!
"A Hundred Things A Boy Can Make" (Various)
Ah, what can I say - I won this in 1952 for being Dux of Year 8. Made up for never getting picked for the footy team or the cricket team. I often browse through this to go back to a Time that existed before rampant technology stole the inner mystery of ancient handcrafted gadgetry so they could package it for ready-to-use sale at The Geeks Shop.
"Radio For Boys" (E N Bradley)
Same as above but I bought this one myself when I was determined to master electronics. I was 12. I was naïve. I couldn't afford the parts for the valve models but I never ever got past the basics of crystal radio anyway but I was a master at that at least. You can't be great at everything.
"Spike Milligan's Military Memoirs" (Spike Milligan)
Ah, my absolutely favourite lunatic. Spike goes to war and eventually has a nervous breakdown but in the meantime never manages to come to terms with the stupidity and the futility of it all. And has a lot of laughs along the way. Zany. You're either a Milligan fan or you ain't.
"Half Days And Patched Pants" (Max Colwell)
Small, classic local novel by a local. A true story of a kid's life in The Depression. Just about the easiest book to read ever. Always gives a good feeling.
"Manshy" (Frank Dalby Davison)
The only novel forced onto me in Secondary Tech School that I liked. A young heifer breaks away from the mob up on a Queensland cattle station and goes bush and this is her story. Yep, not your average page-turner but a minor gem written by a man who knew the life inside out. And can get it across to you.
"Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha" (Roddy Doyle)
About the only Booker winner that they ever got right as far as I can see. I've got most of this Irish writer's stuff, but this is his best. A bunch of kids being kids. Parents trying to be parents.
"The Abercaderium" (Richard A Firmage)
A book about the history of each letter of the alphabet. Not everyone's bag of beans but what can I say - I love all that stuff. Read it many times. Mostly because I keep forgetting the history of each letter of the alphabet. Which I should know.
A novel you love or you hate. Dark and dire and gloomy and God being dead doesn't help. And having Lucifer on the Ark with you as the 40 days and 40 nights waters rise around you could be a bit off-putting to some and he's dressed up as a woman so that's going to alienate at least half the world's population as well. It's not a fun read. Oh, and there's a bit of cannibalism too. And the poor old unicorn...
"The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Nighttime" (Mark Haddon)
I love this book because it's bloody clever. AND it's a brilliant read. Whenever I get jaded by the more heavyweight stuff I drag this one out. An autistic kid that tackles the weird (to him) world as best he can. And overcomes. You'd probably snot him often in real life but in the end you just have to give him a cheer. A determined kid. Dysfunctional adults. But there's a brilliant author at work here.
"The Mouse And His Child" (Russell Hoban)
A strange little tale of a toy. One that leaves you thinking - I should be seeing more in this than I have. It must be allegorical. Probably is but I don't care. Been a while now since I read it last, but each time I've put it down I think yep, always going to have this one at hand.
"The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole..." (Sue Townsend)
This on is over the way, under "Recently Read" I think.
"The Meaning Of Liff" (Adams & Lloyd)
This little weirdo collection of the real meaning of placenames is over under "Strays..."
Then there's these four. I've waffled on about them before, check "Books That Rewired My Brain" over to the left somewhere.
"The Shipping News" (Annie Proulx)
"The Map That Changed The World" (Simon Winchester)
"The Inheritors" (William Golding)
"Riddley Walker" (Russell Hoban)
Okay, that's about it for what it's worth. Twenty books from my personal library. The ones I'm taking with me when I go. What can I say? - I'm a simple soul. But maybe I should take my copy of Joyce's "Ulysses". And Rushdie's "Midnights Children". Only joking.
Cheers......
T.R.E.
"The Mouse And His Child" (Russell Hoban)
A strange little tale of a toy. One that leaves you thinking - I should be seeing more in this than I have. It must be allegorical. Probably is but I don't care. Been a while now since I read it last, but each time I've put it down I think yep, always going to have this one at hand.
"The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole..." (Sue Townsend)
This on is over the way, under "Recently Read" I think.
"The Meaning Of Liff" (Adams & Lloyd)
This little weirdo collection of the real meaning of placenames is over under "Strays..."
Then there's these four. I've waffled on about them before, check "Books That Rewired My Brain" over to the left somewhere.
"The Shipping News" (Annie Proulx)
"The Map That Changed The World" (Simon Winchester)
"The Inheritors" (William Golding)
"Riddley Walker" (Russell Hoban)
Okay, that's about it for what it's worth. Twenty books from my personal library. The ones I'm taking with me when I go. What can I say? - I'm a simple soul. But maybe I should take my copy of Joyce's "Ulysses". And Rushdie's "Midnights Children". Only joking.
Cheers......
T.R.E.